


Little bit of light

by HADES_IS_A_DORK



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Child Connor, Child zoe, Cute Murphy siblings, Cynthia - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Happy, Happy Beginning, I love Cynthia so much, Larry being an ass, Other, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:46:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HADES_IS_A_DORK/pseuds/HADES_IS_A_DORK
Summary: Stolen memories of the childhood of Connor Murphy





	Little bit of light

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on Wattpad as well. I have the same username both on AO3 and wattpad

The thunder was rumbling and crashing as if there was a giant bar fight in the stormy, slate grey clouds. Lighting flashed at intervals of pure white energy and heat. Cold rain kept pouring down in sheets and crackled on rooftops. 

One of these rooftops was the Murphy household as a young girl cried, barely heard against the raging storm. 

Zoe Murphy was just 5 years old at the time. The thunder was so loud it kept her awake. The lightning was so bright it blinded the poor girls tear filled eyes. Zoe never liked storms in the first place, but this was one of the worst. 

As Zoe sobbed and sobbed, she couldn't see the footsteps padding down to her door. She didn't notice the small figure creeping in her room until she felt the comforting arms around her.

Zoe looked up at the figure holding her. It was her older brothers Connor. 

Connor could hear his sister crying during the storm. He knew how much she disliked them. Connor didn't really mind them as much. They calmed him down. But every storm, he always went to his little sisters room to comfort her. 

Zoe gave him a small, tear filled smile as he held her. Connor smiled back.

"It's all right. My teacher tells me that after every storm there's a rainbow, because of the light passing through the raindrops. When this is all over we can go outside and splash in puddles and look at the rainbow!" 

"A wainbow?" Zoe had a few speak difficulties and stumbled over her R's sometimes. Especially when she was upset. Connor smiled and hugged his sister. 

"Yeah. A rainbow." 

Connor ended up staying with Zoe until the two ended up falling asleep. 

And the next morning, it turned out Connor was right. There above the trees, was a glorious rainbow. Connor and Zoe laughed and smiled in delight at seeing it. The rest of the day the two spent splashing in puddles. Cynthia smiled as she saw the two a took a picture.

It was a perfect day. Like a rainbow after a storm. 

12 years later things are different. 

18 year old Zoe is sitting alone in her bedroom as the storm rages. It's even worse than the first one. The whole world is shrouded in grey as the miserable storm goes on. This time Zoe's eyes are dry as she sorts through old things as she packs for college. 

Zoe was over her fear of storms. Of course she was. She was 18 and going for college, not some little kid. Zoe was sorting through old books and childhood toys when she noticed a photo slip out. She went over to pick it up, frowning as she turned to see what it was.

It was an old photo of her and Connor. They were out playing in the aftermath of a storm. They were both jumping in puddles and throwing mud at eachother. They were both absolutely filthy but grinning up at eachother in pure childhood mirth.

Before Connor got mood swings. Before their dad started drifting away. Before Connor went to drugs as a coping mechanism. Before he was found dead and covered in his own puke at the orchard.

Back when Connor didn't hate them all. Back when Connor didn't hate her. When he loved them. When he comforted her. When he was her brother.

After every storm there's a rainbow.

But as Zoe cried over forgotten memories and a boy who was gone before he even died, it didn't feel like it. 

***

It was a hot August day. The sun was beating down on the city of New Jersey mercilessly. 

  "Daaaaaaadd! It's hoooooooot! Can we go inside now?" A 7 year old Connor Murphy complained. Connor and his father Larry were outside in the sweltering heat playing baseball. 

  "Aw come on sport! This is how the real baseball stars played! Don't you wanna play on the big leagues?" Connor rolled his eyes at his dad.

   "No I don't. I wanna be an artist when I grow up!" Connor chirped. Larry grunted.

   "Hmph. Drawings for girls and sissies. Real men play baseball." Connor deflated at his response. 

    "But I'm not a sissie. I just like to draw pictures. Jared in class said I'm a sissie too. I'm sorry for being a sissie." Any normal father would have softened, but not Larry. Larry was a stubborn man and doesn't back down from his beliefs. If he wanted Connor to be a baseball player, Connor would be a baseball player, not this artist crap.

   "Hmph. This Jared kid is right. Drawing is for sissies. I didn't raise no son of mine to be a goddamn homo. We're playing baseball. Maybe that'll knock the gay out of you." Connor looked like he was about to cry, but Larry didn't care. "Stop making that face. Are you going to play baseball with your dad, or go and sew a skirt with your mom?" 

This time Connor snapped. 

    "Neither. I'm going to go and draw. And you can't stop me Larry." Connor threw down his baseball glove and stormed off. Larry followed him of course. The two eventually made up. But Connor never forgot that day. It was the first time he realized his dad wasn't a perfect human being. 

   The first time he called his dad by his real name.

11 years later things have changed.

   Larry had split up with Cynthia a few months ago. He was in a new relationship now. His new girlfriend had a 7 year old son named Michael and Larry decided to meet him for the first time.

    Larry and Michael were now playing baseball and getting to know  eachother. 

    "So Michael! What do you wanna be when you grow up?" Michael missed the ball and blushed.

     "Well... I wanna be an artist. But my old dad says that drawings for girls and homos...so I guess I could be a baseball player." Larry was suddenly struck with deja vu. He was brought back to a time 11 years ago with his real son. Connor. The boy he couldn't save. 

     Larry looked at Michael. He looked nothing like Connor. But he reminded Larry so much of his son. His broken son. The son he ignored. His son that died because Larry refused to see him. Michael was a second chance. He was going to save Michael. 

     "Don't listen to them. They're wrong. Being an artist is a hard job and requires a tough person. If you take the time and effort you can be anything you want to be Michael." Michael grinned up at Larry

"Really? No one ever told me that before! Thank you Larry!" Larry smiled back down at Michael.

"No problem kid." Larry hasn't felt this way since Connor died. It was nice to have a son again. 

"Larry, can we go draw now please?" Larry smiled down at Michael. 

  "Of course we can. It's pretty hot anyway. Let's go."

***

  Cynthia was reading in her chair. It was a calm winter day. The snow lay on the yard in a soft blanket. 4 year old Connor was playing with his toy trucks. Larry, was out grocery shopping with 3 year old Zoe. So Cynthia was alone with her book. Until she heard a crash and a cry of laughter from the kitchen.

   The young woman dropped her book and ran to the kitchen, only to witness a laughing Connor Murphy on the ground, with a pot on his head, and various pans surrounding him. How on earth did he sneak out of his room without her noticing?

   Cynthia decided to watch for a moment to see what Connor would do. To her delight, Connor had found a small wooden spoon and started to bang on the pots and pans like a drum set. At this moment, Cynthia decided to reveal herself and started clapping at little Connors symphony. Connor looked up at his mother and smiled.

  "Mommy! Look! I'm a drummer see? Bang bang, boom boom!" Cynthia laughed in merriment. 

   "Why look at my little drummer boy! What a talented musician! May I join you in your music making?" Connor laughed at his mother. 

     "Sure!" Cynthia went to sit down next to Connor and grabbed a pot to put over her head. At this, Connor started laughing in glee. 

     When Larry and Zoe came back, they saw a laughing Cynthia and Connor in a pile of pots and pans, having a small concert of their own.

    14 years later everything was different.

    Cynthia was broken. She was all alone now. Larry had left her for another woman, Zoe had gone off to college, leaving her broken family behind. And Connor. Her sweet Connor. He was dead. His light was finally all burnt out.

     He was gone. 

   Cynthia was now just known as the sad old woman who couldn't save her tree loving son. The sad old woman that was all alone in the world. Her husband left her. Her daughter was off living her own life. 

  Even Evan Hansen, the boy who she thought to be the last remainder of her son, he was gone. All he was to Cynthia was a cruel trick. One last piece of light and hope that turned out to be just a big lie. A lie that had ruined her life. 

   Everyone online hated her. Saw her as the cruel woman that left her innocent tree loving son turn to darkness because she refused to see what was going on with him.

    The worst part was, it was true. Cynthia couldn't save him. 

    Most of the cruel messages have stopped, but occasionally the one stray cruel text showed up on her phone. A reminder of how she failed her son. Her only son. 

    How she failed to keep him from forever turning off his light.

    

  


End file.
